"Mother," she said one evening to the old lady, whom they often called so, "don"t it seem to you that Lois is gettin" turned round?"
"How, my dear?"
"Well, it ain"t like the Lois we used to have. She"s rushin" at books from morning to night, or scritch-scratching on a slate; and the rest o" the time she"s like nothin" but the girl in the song, that had "bells on her fingers and rings on her toes." I hear that piano-forty going at all hours; it"s tinkle, tinkle, every other thing. What"s the good of all that?"
"What"s the _harm?_" said Lois.
"What"s she doin" it for, that woman? One "ud think she had come here just on purpose to teach Madge and you; for she don"t do anything else.
What"s it all for? that"s what I"d like to be told."
"I"m sure she"s very kind," said Madge.
"Mother, do you like it?"
"What is the harm in what we are doing, Charity?" asked her younger sister.
"If a thing ain"t good it"s always harm!"
"But these things are good."
"Maybe good for some folks; they ain"t good for you."
"I wish you would say "are not,"" said Lois.
"There!" said Charity. "There it is! You"re pilin" one thing on top of another, till your head won"t stand it; and the house won"t be high enough for you by and by. All these ridiculous ways, of people that think themselves too nice for common things! and you"ve lived all your life among common things, and are going to live all your life among them. And, mother, all this French and music will just make Lois discontented. You see if it don"t."
"Do I act discontented?" Lois asked, with a pleasant smile.
"Does she leave any of her work for you to do, Charity?" said Madge.
"Wait till the spring opens and garden must be made," said Charity.
"I should never think of leaving _that_ to you to do, Charity," said Lois, laughing. "We should have a poor chance of a garden."
"Mother, I wish you"d stop it."
Mrs. Armadale said, however, nothing at the time. But the next chance she had when she and her youngest granddaughter were alone, she said,
"Lois, are you in danger of lettin" your pleasure make you forget your duty?"
"I hope not, grandmother. I do not think it. I take these things to be duty. I think one ought always to learn anything one has an opportunity of learning."
"One thing is needful," said the old lady doubtfully.
"Yes, grandmother. I do not forget that."
"You don"t want to learn the ways of the world, Lois?"
"No, grandmother."
CHAPTER XXVII.
PEAS AND RADISHES.
Mr. Dillwyn, as I said, did not come near Shampuashuh. He took his indemnification in sending all sorts of pleasant things. Papers and magazines overflowed, flowed over into Mrs. Marx"s hands, and made her life rich; flowed over again into Mr. Hotchkiss"s hands, and embroidered his life for him. Mr. Dillwyn sent fruit; foreign fruit, strange and delicious, which it was a sort of education even to eat, bringing one nearer to the countries so far and unknown, where it grew.
He sent music; and if some of it pa.s.sed under Lois"s ban as "nonsense,"
that was not the case with the greater part. "She has a marvellous true appreciation of what is fine," Mrs. Barclay wrote; "and she rejects with an accuracy which surprises me, all that is merely pretty and flashy. There are some bits of Handel that have great power over the girl; she listens to them, I might almost say, devoutly, and is never weary. Madge is delighted with Rossini; but Lois gives her adherence to the German cla.s.sics, and when I play Haydn or Mozart or Mendelssohn, stands rapt in her delighted listening, and looking like--well, I will not tantalize you by trying to describe to you what I see every day. I marvel only where the girl got these tastes and susceptibilities; it must be blood; I believe in inheritance. She has had until now no training or experience; but your bird is growing her wings fast now, Philip. If you can manage to cage her! Natures hereabout are not tame, by any means."
Mr. Dillwyn, I believe I mentioned, sent engravings and exquisite photographs; and these almost rivalled Haydn and Mozart in Lois"s mind.
For various reasons, Mrs. Barclay sought to make at least this source of pleasure common to the whole family; and would often invite them all into her room, or carry her portfolio out into their general sitting-room, and display to the eyes of them all the views of foreign lands; cities, castles and ruins, palaces and temples, Swiss mountains and Scotch lochs, Paris Boulevards and Venetian ca.n.a.ls, together with remains of ancient art and works of modern artists; of all which Philip sent an unbounded number and variety. These evenings were unendingly curious to Mrs. Barclay. Comment was free, and undoubtedly original, whatever else might be said of it; and character, and the habit of life of her audience, were unconsciously revealed to her. Intense curiosity and eagerness for information were observable in them all; but tastes, and the power of apprehension and receptiveness towards new and strange ideas, and the judgment pa.s.sed upon things, were very different in the different members of the group. These exhibitions had further one good effect, not unintended by the exhibitor; they brought the whole family somewhat in tone with the new life to which two of its members were rising. It was not desirable that Lois should be too far in advance of her people, or rather that they should be too far behind her. The questions propounded to Mrs. Barclay on these occasions, and the elucidations she found it desirable to give without questions, transformed her part into that of a lecturer; and the end of such an evening would find her tired with her exertions, yet well repaid for them. The old grandmother manifested great curiosity, great admiration, with frequently an expression of doubt or disapproval; and very often a strange, slight, inexpressible air of one who felt herself to belong to a different world, to which all these things were more or less foreign.
Charity showed also intense eagerness and curiosity, and inquisitiveness; and mingled with those, a very perceptible flavour of incredulity or of disdain, the latter possibly born of envy. But Lois and Madge were growing with every journey to distant lands, and every new introduction to the great works of men"s hands, of every kind and of every age.
After receiving that letter of Mrs. Barclay"s mentioned in the last chapter, Philip Dillwyn would immediately have attacked Tom Caruthers again on the question of his liking for Miss Lothrop, to find out whether possibly there were any the least foundation for Mrs. Barclay"s scruples and fears. But it was no longer in his power. The Caruthers family had altered their plans; and instead of going abroad in the spring, had taken their departure with the first of December, after an impromptu wedding of Julia to her betrothed. Mr. Dillwyn did not seriously believe that there was anything his plan had to fear from this side; nevertheless he preferred not to move in the dark; and he waited. Besides, he must allow time for the work he had sent Mrs.
Barclay to do; to hurry matters would be to spoil everything; and it was much better on every ground that he should keep away from Shampuashuh. As I said, he busied himself with Shampuashuh affairs all he could, and wore out the winter as he best might; which was not very satisfactorily. And when spring came he resolutely carried out his purpose, and sailed for Europe. Till at least a year had gone by he would not try to see Lois; Mrs. Barclay should have a year at least to push her beneficent influence and bring her educational efforts to some visible result; he would keep away; but it would be much easier to keep away if the ocean lay between them, and he went to Florence and northern Italy and the Adriatic.
Meanwhile the winter had "flown on soft wings" at Shampuashuh. Every day seemed to be growing fuller and richer than its predecessors; every day Lois and Madge were more eager in the search after knowledge, and more ready for the reception of it. A change was going on in them, so swift that Mrs. Barclay could almost see it from day to day. Whether others saw it I cannot tell; but Mrs. Marx shook her head in the fear of it, and Charity opined that the family "might whistle for a garden, and for b.u.t.ter and cheese next summer." Precious opportunity of winter days, when no gardening nor dairy work was possible! and blessed long nights and mornings, after sunset and before sunrise, when no housework of any sort put in claims upon the leisure of the two girls. There were no interruptions from without. In Shampuashuh, society could not be said to flourish. Beyond an occasional "sewing society" meeting, and a much more rare gathering for purely social purposes, nothing more than a stray caller now and then broke the rich quiet of those winter days; the time for a tillage, and a sowing, and a growth far beyond in preciousness all "the precious things put forth by the sun" in the more genial time of the year. But days began to become longer, nevertheless, as the weeks went on; and daylight was pushing those happy mornings and evenings into lesser and lesser compa.s.s; and snow quite disappeared from the fields, and buds began to swell on the trees and take colour, and airs grew more gentle in temperature; though I am bound to say there is a sharpness sometimes in the nature of a Shampuashuh spring, that quite outdoes all the greater rigours of the winter that has gone.
"The frost is out of the ground!" said Lois one day to her friend.
"Well," said Mrs. Barclay innocently; "I suppose that is a good thing."
Lois went on with her drawing, and made no answer.
But soon Mrs. Barclay began to perceive that less reading and studying were done; or else some drawing lingered on its way towards completion; and the deficits became more and more striking. At last she demanded the reason.
"O," said Madge, "the cows have come in, and I have a good deal to do in the dairy now; it takes up all my mornings. I"m so sorry, I don"t know what to do! but the milk must be seen to, and the b.u.t.ter churned, and then worked over; and it takes time, Mrs. Barclay."
"And Lois?"
"O, Lois is making garden."
"Making garden!"
"Yes; O, she always does it. It"s her particular part of the business.
We all do a little of everything; but the garden is Lois"s special province, and the dairy mine, and Charity takes the cooking and the sewing. O, we all do our own sewing, and we all do grandmother"s sewing; only Charity takes head in that department."
"What does Lois do in the garden?"
"O, everything. We get somebody to plough it up in the fall; and in the spring we have it dug over; but all the rest she does. We have a good garden too," said Madge, smiling.
"And these things take your morning and her morning?"
"Yes, indeed; I should think they did. Rather!"